


The Stranger in the Doorway

by VampireHydeFTW



Series: Christmas 2015 [5]
Category: GacktJOB
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireHydeFTW/pseuds/VampireHydeFTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When You found the man lying in the doorway he knew he had to help. He was clearly in pain and nobody else was around. Helping a stranger was easy, but when the stranger wore the face of a lover long dead things became just a little bit surreal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stranger in the Doorway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saurgristiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saurgristiel/gifts).



Keeping his head down You hurried down the stormy street desperate to get home to his warm apartment. This rain felt like he was being attacked by tiny icy arrows, the wind an angry force pushing against him. To say he wished he had stayed inside was an understatement, but he'd been foolish enough to think a quick trip to the shop for essentials would be no hassle.

So caught up in the battle with the weather he almost missed the man lying in a doorway with a large overhang, that ordinarily would protect him from the weather. It was obvious from his appearance that he wasn't homeless which meant he must be sick or injured.

Ignoring the voice in his head that warned this man might be under the influence of something he gently shook the man awake. The man stirred and he shot back feeling like he had seen a ghost. It couldn't be! Those piercing blue eyes, the artificially perfect nose, soft gentle lips. He looked exactly like Gackt, but that was impossible. Gackt was dead.

“Help,” the man who looked like his friend begged, his voice weak from whatever ordeal he had been through that had led him here. “I need...”

“An ambulance,” You realised as the man lost consciousness. It didn't matter who he was, or even why he looked so much like his friend, he was sick and needed help. He phoned for the ambulance and calmly explained the situation, momentarily at ease with the situation as he had something to do. It was only after the phone call was finished and he sat down beside Gackt, no the stranger, to share body heat that he began to wonder what was going on. Gackt was dead, wasn't he?

He'd been there at the funeral, offering comfort to Gackt's distraught sister as he tried his best to remain strong. That had been the second hardest day of his life, the first being when he heard the news.

“You were stabbed,” You informed the stranger, who wasn't Gackt and yet he found it impossible to think of him in any other way. “Through the chest with a 30cm blade. It pierced your lung and nobody found you until it was too late. There were smaller wounds on your wrist, a bite of some sort. You are not Gackt, how could you be?” Naturally the unconscious man remained silent. Surely it was just his imagination, or perhaps a coincidence, that he had stirred every time he had heard the name.

  


You woke in a hospital bed, confused and groggy. He wasn't the one injured, was he? Perhaps the whole meeting with Gackt had been nothing but a delusion or dream? Something had put him in hospital, but he didn't even remember being sick.

He sat up carefully, relieved to find no signs of physical injury, and reached for the clipboard chart at the end of his bed for clues. He hadn't noticed much more than an elevated temperature when a nurse came into the room to check on him.

“Oh, you're awake,” she said with a kind smile. “That's good.”

“What happened?” You asked as the nurse took his chart away from him.

“You caught pneumonia, waiting in the rain with that poor man,” the nurse explained, “At least the paramedics think it was that way around?”

“I was the one who called the ambulance,” You confirmed. So not a dream then? He wasn't sure if this revelation was a relief or a curse. If that man had been real could he have possibly actually been Gackt? It seemed insane to even consider the idea. Gackt was dead. He'd been there, he'd seen it with his own eyes. The pain, the grief and the silence that filled the hole where Gackt's light had once been.

“Well you saved his life,” the nurse told him as she began to take his temperature, “He was incredibly anaemic, really the doctor doesn't know how he was alive at all. It took four pints of blood to return him to a healthy level, yet the strangest thing is the doctor couldn't find a cause for the blood loss. I don't suppose you know anything of his medical history? We'd ask him but he's still sleeping.”

“I don't know the man,” You answered with more confidence than he actually felt. Gackt was dead, but this stranger couldn't be anyone else.

“Well the doctor will figure things out eventually,” the nurse reassured him. Finishing her basic checks of You's vitals and letting him sleep once she was gone. He was so tired from his illness that sleep took him easily, despite his original protests that he was perfectly fine.

 

He woke again sometime later feeling a lot more alert than he had done before. At least he understood why he was in this hospital bed this time, though really he was sure his pneumonia was now long gone.

He made his way to the small bathroom to relieve himself and wash his body as best he could with water and hand soap from the sink. Just the small exercise had made him tired again and with some reluctance he admitted to himself that he was in fact still sick. At least he was in the right place and had insurance that would cover his stay here.

“So this time you are awake,” a teasing voice said from the doorway. Surprised he turned to face the stranger who wore Gackt's face and spoke with Gackt's voice. “Though your adorable asleep as well.”

“Who are you?” You asked as the stranger shut the door of the private room and approached him with the same arrogant stride of his former lover.

“You know who I am, Yokun,” Gackt replied. Startled by the nickname that only Gackt had ever called him he allowed the other to straddle him on the bed. Pinning him beneath a more than familiar weight, “Don't tell me you've forgotten.”

“Gackt, you're dead,” You protested as he stared up at his lovers familiar features, finding not one flaw that could suggest he was anyone else.

“I am,” Gackt agreed, as easily as he was confirming the colour of his hair. How could it be possible, was he still dreaming? The lips on his felt real though, the kiss impossible to exist outside reality in it's complexity.

He felt weak, but he wasn't sure if it was his illness or his need for Gackt that made him feel this way. Desperately he clung onto his lover, moaning quietly between kisses, it's body more than ready for anything and everything Gackt wanted to do to it.

The night passed in a pleasured blur that ended with his lover deep inside him, pounding hard and fast to bring pain along with the pleasure. Nobody else would know how to pleasure him like this. Nobody else knew his body this well. Even he didn't know all the secrets Gackt used to his own advantage every time.

“Gackt,” You got out in a breathless moan just before the darkness came and he passed out.

  


It had been a week since his time in the hospital, and even now he was struggling to put the pieces together. It had all felt so real, but how could it have been? There was a man he rescued, he knew for sure because the nurse and doctor had been concerned when he had vanished from his hospital room. A man who looked like Gackt, and in his weak state he had believed him to be just that. He couldn't be, his mind had been playing tricks. Had he slept with this stranger? He felt like he had, but there had been no evidence in the morning to suggest the stranger had even been there at all. If he had come, if he had tricked him into believing that he was Gackt, then he'd been raped because he certainly wouldn't have allowed anyone to crawl into bed with him like that. Perhaps it was better if it had all just been a dream?

A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts and he went to answer it wondering who it could be. He wasn't expecting any packages or company. He should of realised who it was before he opened the door, but he hadn't and instead stood open mouthed as his old flame stood on the other side. He was just as pale as he had been before going to hospital, and obviously weak though not at death's door. Neither man said anything for a few moments, both waiting for the other to speak.

“So, are you going to invite me in?” Gackt asked, “Or should I keep standing here while you stare?”

“No, you can come in,” You replied, feeling strangely nervous. There was no doubts now that Gackt was back, or that he was anything less than sane. The facts rushed through his brain, leading him to one conclusion that left him feeling angry and used.

“You faked your death!” You accused, waiting only for the door to shut before letting Gackt have it. “You faked your death and didn't warn anyone! How could you? Weren't we in love? Did I mean that little to you? And then, you come to me when I'm sick and weak just to use my body? You think I'd consent to that if I wasn't out of my mind with whatever drugs the hospital had given me? Well I wouldn't consent, I don't consent. You abused me, in so many ways!” 

“Have you finished?” Gackt asked, strangely calm through You's angry tirade.

“I've barely started,” You replied, saying no more as he waited for Gackt's response to his angry words. Was there anything Gackt could say that would make this right? Could this situation ever be right?

“I died You,” Gackt explained calmly, “And I'm dead now. I didn't fake anything.”

“So what, you're a ghost? A zombie? A figment of my imagination?” You demanded. Perhaps he was going insane after all.

“Vampire,” Gackt replied. It took You a long moment to realise he was serious and even then he couldn't help but laugh. This was absurd, vampires weren't real! Yet twin fangs were growing in Gackt's mouth, long and sharp and deadly. They froze him in place, killing laughter and anger as both were replaced with fear. Then, as quickly as they appeared they retreated back into Gackt's gums leaving nothing but two sharp looking teeth. “I need your help. I have no one else.”

“The doctor's said you were anaemic and needed four pints of blood, yet there was no reason for your body to be this way.” You remembered.

“A vampire's body can't produce it's own like a human's can. We have no choice but to drink from others.” Gackt explained, “Or apparently have it injected straight into our veins. She didn't tell me that it was an option.”

“She?” You asked.

“The vampire who made me,” Gackt explained. “She was teaching me what I needed to know, then I would have offered you the same. I never abandoned you, I never wanted to cause you pain.”

“I've gone insane,” You remarked feeling stunned by the turn of events, “Because I'm believing every word you just said.”

“You're not crazy,” Gackt reassured him. He studied You for a moment before making up his mind to continue sharing his story. “Vampires are like humans in every way, except for the need for blood and immortality and a few other physical changes. What I mean is, mentally, inside where it matters, we're the same. We think, we feel, we love and hate just like humans. We're good and evil or somewhere in between. I'm the same man who you buried, only now I'm no longer alive. My sire was staked through the heart by a vampire hunter. An intelligent, kind woman turned to dust by a serial killer with an agenda.”

“If she was kind, why did she kill you?” You demanded.

“Because I was dying anyway,” Gackt admitted. “You know how ill I was from time to time, I just never confessed quite how serious my heart condition actually was.”

“So you lied to me,” You snapped. “That's twice now.”

“You're angry, I knew you would be.” Gackt said, still as calm as ever. “But this hunter is after me now, and I'm starving because every source of blood I had has been compromised. I won't become a killer to please his game. There's only one person I could think of who would share blood with me willingly and not compromise the secret of my existence.”

“Screw you Gackt!” You snapped, “So that's how it is? You come here dying before my eyes, knowing I have no fucking choice but to help you! You've put me through hell! Did you know that? Your sister, your brother, your parents. We grieved you night after night, a hole that can't be replaced. Yet here you are, breathing and talking and being just as selfish as you ever were! Why the hell do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Gackt answered, “And because you know that I care about you but suck at all of this. I'm a flawed man, we both know that, but my love has always been real. Please You, I need your help and you know I will make it worth your time.”

“You're a jerk,” You replied. Yet he still tilted his neck and braced himself for the feeling of sharp fangs piercing his skin. Sometimes he wondered if Gackt took him for granted, but he couldn't deny the sentiments behind Gackt's words. This time he was certain Gackt was telling the truth.

“I love you,” Gackt whispered, his warm breath landing on You's exposed neck. Lips moved down, kissing his skin and then away. Surprised You opened his eyes in time to watch Gackt's fangs bury themselves into his wrist. It hurt, but not as bad as he had thought it would. If he wasn't so angry, and this wasn't so desperate, Gackt feeding off him would have been described as romantic. As it was he knew it was just convenient, but it didn't stop him stroking Gackt's hair with his other hand. No matter his emotional state he would protect Gackt. No hunter was going to hurt his lover and closest friend.

Slowly Gackt moved away, nervously waiting for You to freak out. When he didn't he embraced his lover and held onto him as if his very existence depended on never letting him go. He'd missed You, missed him more than even he had realised until this moment. He'd been a fool to even try to hide this hadn't he? Yet how was he supposed to know how You would react? It wasn't every day you had to confess to someone that you were a creature normally found only in horror films and books.

With a smile You took Gackt's hand and led him into their bedroom, lying invitingly on the bed before the vampire. He was too dazed for any of this to feel real but he knew what he wanted. Who he wanted. Words weren't needed to express such a message, Gackt knew him to well for that.

Following You, Gackt opened a drawer and pulled out some medical supplies which he applied to the other's wrist. Not making any sexual advance until he was sure the wounds he had made were properly covered and protected.

Once done he lay down on the bed beside You and kissed him tenderly. In the hospital he had been desperate, but now he had time to really appreciate the man he hoped he could still call his own. There relationship still required a lot of healing but he was willing to take the time. You was special and he hoped he would never hurt him again. Not unless You permitted him to feed from him of course, but that was an entirely different kind of pain.


End file.
